from Something Solid: Aughts Philly: New Jersey Blood
I. The first
bedlam-infested Free School show: I caught Jeremy
doing his reconnaissance routine, ribbing audience to
leave. I didn’t realize then who Jeremy was,
where he came from (South Jersey),
& why he worked, in Philly, to stay (&
remain) small. The Highwire shows were too high for
his, & Jersey’s, leveled lowliness; who had no recourse
but to (hostilely) spy on us. New Jersey squirmed,
itchy for its Philly; Jeremy slunk back,
wine in hand, began snapping pictures again. As
he knelt to get a special angle on Mike Land,
who stood reading at the podium, I
remembered Avalon as a teenager, New Jersey at
midnight— waves into emptiness. II. The dirge droned
over the dimly lit dance floor, “Stop Me If
You’ve Heard This One Before,” & Tara, a
bowl-headed Jersey redhead, heaved against me. Suburban
Jersey slowed her pace like a sprained ankle;
tall tales, excuses abounded of potential
husbands, other elaborate entanglements, making it dodgy to
take her too seriously. She sought ins with
us; we always said yes; yet we bled
something out of her style & self-possession. Mike Land, who
(oddly) was no dancer, drank our grungy group
under the table, in a short-lived joint off of Rittenhouse
Square— Tara made a gesture to her
girlfriend to step outside. “It’s a conspiracy;” I
kidded Mike, “bring on the shots.”
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